Set In Stone
by carsareawesome
Summary: The future has never always been set in stone. Red opticked sparklings were never programmed to be evil. But something made them fall. When Soundwave is captured by the Autobots, Optimus shows his team a story of the past, and the real reason why his brother, Megatron, fell. And this story is only just the beginning. MULTI-CHAPTER. Rated T for violence - just because I'm paranoid.
1. Prologue: Origin

This story is based on both the Transformers movies and Transformers Prime. Now enjoy! :-D

**Set In Stone **

**Prologue: Origin**

To begin with, there were 13 Primes. The Matrix of Leadership had chosen them itself, and through it, Primus. But Fate had played its game. Unicron took the thirteenth Prime for its own evil-doings, and turned him against his brothers. Reborn fully as the Fallen, the former Prime set out to harvest energon from stars that harboured life. In a final attempt to stop him, the twelve remaining Primes made a tomb to protect the Matrix – the key – but a tomb made from their own bodies.

The Fallen had his army, known as the Decepticons, to do his bidding and to serve him as a master. These Decepticons were the opposite of the group called the Autobots, who fought for Primus, and their hunger for power drove their optics to become blood-red.

As the Fallen and his Decepticons retreated, Cybertron was at peace once more. Life thrived, but yet, Fate continued to play. The sparklings of the Autobots were born as either having blue, or red optics. The Autobots were once again reminded of the terrible war they fought against the Decepticons, and the sparklings born with the red optics were shunted and excluded from society, forced to fend for themselves. Over the years, the hate against these sparklings had subsided, but they continued to be treated as lower than the others, carving their fate to be set in stone.

The times grew darker. No mech or femme wanted these red-opticked sparklings, and as the threat of the Decepticons once again grew darker, they were abducted and forced to become slaves. Hatred for these 'future Decepticons' became ever stronger, and many of them were thrown out of their homes, disowned, and eventually tuned against the Autobots. This led to the belief that these sparklings were of Unicron's meddling, and that their fate of evil was set in stone, programmed within them, and that they could not be changed.

Up to a few decades prior to the Great War, the belief held. Robots with blue optics were Autobots, and those with red were Decepticons.

Some red-opticked sparklings rose against this, believing that their futures had not been written out for them, but they too, fell from the deprivation of love and care, and a place in society. That was the fact. Even the strongest would fall. And though they tried to be different, to rise, they all knew that set in stone, they were destined to fall.

But Fate smiled contently to itself as it wove the game from air, a force stronger than that of Unicron and Primus. Its game was succeeding.


	2. 1: Resurrected

Note: I apologise for the short chapters. I wrote the draft in my notebook, and it took up about 3 full pages, but it doesn't seem to work that way on the computer. However, I will desperately try to prolong each chapter. On a good note, there are going to be 59 chapters (including the prologue and epilogue), so the story _will _be a worth-while read. This chapter also contains reference to the Transformers Prime episode, Minus One.

Reviews are greatly appreciated! No flames, please!

**Resurrected**

"Optimus! Optimus Prime!" Wheeljack hurtled down the corridor, waving his arms similar to that of a lunatic. The Autobots were sitting in their 'common room', the place where they liked to chat – and be less serious for a while. They had prevailed at the battle of Chicago – killing Megatron and the majority of the Decepticons – but the loss of Jazz and Ironhide had been taken in grief.

The addressed Prime pulled himself to his feet and looked down at Wheeljack – being much taller than the latter. "What is it _this _time, Wheeljack? I am not one to make assumptions, but does this have anything to do with one of your experiments?" And sure enough, the 'Bot was known for his out-of-control experiments that in more than one case, resulted in an accident.

He looked indignant. "No! Of course not," he said, glaring at Skids and Mudflap, who were sniggering in the corner. "It's bad. It's worse than bad. It's…" He started yelling in Cybertronian to express the audacity of the situation. Ratchet gave him a look. "Get to the point, Wheeljack," while shooting a look at the twins.

Wheeljack huffed, though the look of absolute dismay remained on his faceplates. "The Decepticons are back!" he yelled, before cursing in Cybertronian.

"How can you be sure?" asked the red medic, looking to his leader for guidance.

"Well, I was at Chicago, salvaging bits of metal for an experiment, then NEST tells me that those 'Con bodies have disappeared, and they're looking for 'em too. So, I run back 'ere, and check their active movements from the DNA samples we 'ave, and all of 'em are online, and planning something horrible. I knew those idiots wouldn't be offline for long…" he trailed off, turning back to Optimus and Ratchet, the latter having a shocked look on his faceplates.

"All of them, you said," Ratchet spoke. "All of them?"

Wheeljack hurriedly rephrased his words. "All of 'em except Megatron, that is. So we're not in that much trouble."

Optimus sighed and shook his helm. "They'll want to bring Megatron back. Not Starscream. Soundwave. And when he does, it'll be chaos, and the war will start all over again." The Autobots looked at one another in concern. "Where are their current locations, Wheeljack?"

"Oh," Wheeljack said, "-erm, they're outside."

"Outside?!" shrieked Mudflap, falling over at once.

"We have no time," Optimus said, "We have to go now." The Prime charged up his gun, and led the Autobots away, with the shock still etched on their faceplates.

Sure enough, the Decepticons were waiting for them, Starscream, his red and white wings visible, scowling at the expressionless Communications Chief, Soundwave. Shockwave was standing along with them. "What do they want?" asked Ratchet.

"They want to kill us!" Mudflap shrieked again, now becoming hysterical.

"Not that," the medic sighed, exasperated with his fellow comrade's low level of intellectual stimulation. "If they want to resurrect Megatron, why did they come for us?" he asked, receiving some worried expressions. "Fine," he amended. "Let's just go."

"FOR PRIMUS!" Optimus yelled, charging the Autobots at the Decepticons. Somehow, what Ratchet had said earlier had clicked with him. The 'Cons were looking for something – something that was essential in raising Megatron from the dead, and it was at the Autobot base. That was the only reason why they were facing the Autobots now, without Megatron leading, for once. But it was too late for Optimus to send anyone back to the base. He would just need to be alert. It was almost too easy without the Decepticon warlord. No one could stand in his way. But he was not an arrogant tyrant. He tried to blot out all memories of Megatron before the latter became a Decepticon…

For absolutely no reason at all, Optimus caught sight of the black and yellow scout, Bumblebee, battling Ravage and Laserbeak, who were evading all his shots. _Where's Soundwave?_, thought the Prime, scanning for the slender purple 'Con. He whacked two winged 'Cons away from him, and his eyes locked on the silent Communications Chief sprinting to the Autobot base. Ravage noticed Optimus's optics on his master, and emitted a high frequency sonic blast, which prompted Soundwave to flip in the air, becoming his Cybertronian jet alt mode. His audios ringing, Optimus gave chase.

He knew Soundwave would put up a fight. The 'Con had the ability to hold even the Prime at bay for a while, so Optimus wasn't going to go for the straight-on approach. He ran forwards, building up speed, leaping and managing to hold the plane by the wing, and drag it back to earth.

Optimus pinned Soundwave down, holding his wings in his servos. The blue mech's optics narrowed as he saw the carved Decepticon insignias on the third-in –command's wings. Soundwave struggled to free himself, and Optimus remembered the silent taunts that the 'Con had given him along with the smiley emoticon. He remembered the utter loyalty and devotion Soundwave had shown Megatron, willing to risk his own deactivation for his master.

The energon sword slid out of its sheath, and hovered over Soundwave's visor. "Give me a reason, Decepticon, and I will," the Prime said, his blue optics boring as well as he could into what he assumed would be the Decepticon's red ones. Why the 'Con wore a visor, he couldn't remember. Maybe he did remember, but he had blotted out all memories from his past, finding them too painful for him to remember. He turned back to the Decepticon. "You can't," the mech said in a robotically emotionless voice. Optimus glared coldly at him. "I can, and I will."

"You won't," the purple 'Con spoke, correcting himself. Optimus was partly stunned, remembering that Soundwave had broken his Vow of Silence – and both time, before he deactivated. He knew that the 'Con could read his mind. Did he know what the Prime was going to do?

The blue and red mech paused, his sword-tip dangling in front of Soundwave's visor. "Kill him!" yelled Red Alert to his commander, dodging a blow. "Just kill 'im, Prime, kill the little bit of filth!"

Turning to face the battle, Optimus saw that the Decepticons were retreating, led by Starscream, seeing that Soundwave had not made it to the Autobot base. This action made Optimus sure that they were indeed looking for something in the Autobot base, maybe to revive Megatron. But since when had Starscream ever wanted to resurrect the Decepticon warlord, and pass up the glory of becoming leader? But they would soon be back – particularly the cassettes – to bring their own master back. The optics of the Decepticons, glowing red in the gathering gloom, vanished within the darkness that cloaked them, inlaid with an ominous aura of evil.

Optimus turned back to the Autobots. "We are not going to kill him." He paused. "Not yet."


	3. 2: Kill, or not kill?

Note: Okay, this chapter is short. It's slightly longer than the prologue, and I apologise for that. I didn't really have much to write before the flashback. Yes, flashbacks are completely in italics, and there will be several thoughts from the Autobots when they watch the flashbacks that won't be in italics.

This chapter also has taken ideas from Harry Potter. Sorry to all HP fans who don't like me using the idea of the Pensive to play back the memories that Optimus has. Please review!

**2. Kill, or not kill?**

No one quite knew what to do with the silent Decepticon. Most wanted to kill him. Optimus was not one of them. The Autobots had kept Soundwave in a high-security room, and had attempted to access his data files, but to no prevail. Now, a highly-annoyed Wheeljack followed by a less-calm Ratchet stomped away from the computer. Wheeljack grinded his dentae at the screen, which was filled with numerous pages of Cybertronian code. "He's no use to us alive," said the red and white mech in frustration. "He refuses to speak, move, or co-operate in any way, shape, or form."

Skids threw up his arms. "Now what?"

Optimus walked towards Soundwave and said, "What do you want?", receiving absolutely no answer from the utterly silent mech. "Why won't you talk?" The frustration was evident in his voice as he glared in disgust at the Decepticon.

Soundwave didn't move. With his eerily ominous voice, he said, "Remember." Optimus froze, his frame swaying as he stared at the other mech. Ratchet stepped forwards with an immobiliser, but the Prime shook his head. The Autobots had never seen their leader so mentally vulnerable, and anger surged through their energon lines at the faceless purple 'Con.

"What is he doing? Is he using his powers again?" demanded the medic, optics not leaving the visored mech.

"No," said the Prime, but he flinched.

"That's it," snapped Ratchet, advancing to the bound Decepticon.

"No," Optimus said, more pronounced and stronger. "Don't. He spoke, at least. He wants… something."

"Yeah?" said Wheeljack. "He wants. But the information wasn't exactly helpful, was it? It just does things for itself, with no care to others."

"_He,_ Wheeljack," Optimus said. "He's not an 'it', he's a mech."

"I know that you believe that sentient beings have the capacity for change, but it- he's a Decepticreep," argued the scientist, "He's always been one, from the day he joined Megatron. And I know that Megatron was your brother, but he's evil, too. You need to remember that they're your enemies. It's for the Earth's good." That was the most emotional speech Wheeljack had ever given.

Optimus's optics were distant. "They weren't always evil," he said, "They weren't always my enemies. They tried…" Soundwave wanted him to remember, and suddenly images were flying in bright streaks of colour in his processor. "…but fell."

Ratchet looked shocked. "Jeez, Prime! Don't listen to i- him! That's what he wants, isn't it?"

The Prime beckoned with his right arm, stepping away from Soundwave as he did. "Come. I need to show you something." The Autobots were hesitant, save from Bumblebee, who used his radio to say, "If we can't trust him, we can't trust anyone."

Optimus's quarters. The room was vast, but what took up most of it was a clear pool with specks of deep blue drifting in it. "It's where my memories are," he explained. "Because I wanted to forget what had happened, I put them in here, and tried to seal it away. Well, now, you and I can look in it, and you'll see what I saw, all those years ago, when Cybertron was our home."

Reluctantly, yet strangely willingly, the Autobots stepped closer, looking into the pool, with the glowing reflection of the water shimmering as it illuminated across their faces. And, looking into the water, they finally saw…


	4. 3: Innocent

Note: This is a slightly longer chapter than the previous one. XD But this is where the rating starts to come in, partly because I'm paranoid, and partly because a mechling gets tortured. And yes, the energon is described, so if you're squeamish, it would be best to skip this chapter (not that it is _that _bad). Thank you to _TheGhost129 _for reviewing my story. Also, this is the last chapter that I'm going to update before I have to get at least 5 reviews. Sorry for being so mean!

**3. Innocent**

They found themselves in a room, the one that would have belonged to the Prime on Cybertron, before its destruction. But looking at this memory, they were powerless to do anything against it.

_A perfect single mechling was playing innocently, and happily, too. But his optics were blood-red, a shocking colour, but looked so innocent, so unnaturally big in the mechling's faceplates. With a jolt, they realised it was Megatron. Despite the red, his optics were kind and gentle, much like that of Optimus's – there was no cruelty like they had always seen, in them. _

_The door opened, and they recognised Sentinel Prime, before his death before the start of the Great War. His optics had no warmth in them, and it was a shock to the Autobots that he was ever made a Prime, also given his participation in the Decepticon army in the Battle of Chicago. _

Fate smiled. It was his meddling again.

_Megatronus – the young Megatron – looked up, recognising his father. "Daddy?" he asked, blinking his perfect optics as he said the word uncertainly. He couldn't have been more than one Earth year old. _

_Sentinel stared at his so with pure hatred distorting the features on his faceplates. "Do _not_ call me by that designation, do you understand?" he snarled, an extremely ugly look rippling across his faceplates. And although Megatronus was too young to understand, he acknowledged with the force behind the words, and whimpered. _

_The former red Prime growled and used his claw-like servos to hit the small mechling into the corner, causing the latter to cry out in pain, coolant running down from his crimson optics. _

It was near unbelievable for the Autobots to see their most hated enemy so weak and pitiful, cowering on the floor, beaten and abused by his father. "Why?" asked Skids, his own optics welling up with coolant, looking at Optimus, who looked as though he wanted to intervene, to do something, anything to stop this – he knew why he had locked it out of his mind now; it was so painful, that he felt his spark clench in pain. He wanted to forget again, he wanted to scream to see his older brother in this state by the mech he had known as father. But it was a memory, just a memory…

_But it wasn't enough. Sentinel was beyond rage. He kicked out at his son, who recoiled and continued to sob uncontrollably, the innocent and broken expression on his faceplates. The renegade Prime looked down in absolute disgust at the cowering child, before raising his fusion cannon to level with Megatronus's spark chamber. _

Optimus wanted to scream; his vocaliser was on fire. He forced himself to stay silent, though his insides felt like they were being crushed. The Prime knew what would happen, knew that the next events would forever destroy the young Megatronus's life. And internally, it killed him.

_A scream rent the air. A young femme dashed into view behind Sentinel, her faceplates a mask of horror as she took in the situation: the gun barrel threateningly held over her child's spark. "No," she begged, catching hold of the fusion cannon, and trying to tug its view away from the crying child. "Please, don't hurt him! What did he do? Have mercy! Please…" she too was sobbing. _

"_Get away from me," Sentinel hissed, mouthplates bared in a feral snarl. "I'll do anything I want." He grappled for the gun, and twisted it out of the femme's servos, aiming it once again at Megatronus, who shrieked in terror. The femme sobbed harder, but the prime pushed her away, causing her to stumble and collapse on the marble flooring. "It's a Decepticon. Look at its optics for proof!" the renegade Prime growled, "Little bit of FILTH!"_

"_No!" the femme screamed in the corner. Sentinel ignored her and advanced on his sparkling. "I don't want to hear a WORD from you! You disgust me!" He levelled the fusion cannon in line with this child's spark. His finger tightened on the trigger. He squeezed it. _

_BANG._

_The femme had thrown herself in the direction of the cannon, altering its sights. It had missed Megatronus's spark, but had blown holes through his still-delicate armour, mortally scarring him for life. The tiny sparkling lay, gasping, in a puddle of his own energon, which sprayed out like a severed hosepipe, painting the walls with the dark liquid. "Mummy," he whimpered weakly, arm limp, and sobbing, his faceplates a mess of energon and coolant. Sentinel was yelling angrily; he threw the cannon down onto the ground, making it splash in his child's energon, but he didn't care. "Don't you interfere again!" he screamed at the femme; he looked deranged, a savage animal, wild and uncontrolled. _

"_FILTH!" spat Sentinel to the barely-functioning mechling, and stormed out of the room. _

_The femme staggered, crawling through the energon, shivering at the bitter smell of it, the smell of torture, as if someone had been murdered there; she didn't know how she could stand it, just knew that she had to reach her son before it was too late…_

_Megatronus was curled up in his own energon, coolant still streaming down from his slowly fading optics; his tiny servos were clutched over his wounds, energon oozing from between his fingers, and seeping to the ground. "Mummy…" his voice was a strangled gasp. "It hurts so much…" His mother gently cradled him in her arms. "It's going to be okay, Megatronus."_

_The mechling looked up at his mother. "Promise?" he asked feebly. She sobbed harder. She could see his tiny perfect optics fading, almost hear him powering down. Her beautiful child was almost gone. _

"_Am I going to die, Mummy?" whispered the sparkling, the glowing blue of his spark turning dull. It was those six words that broke her spark. A single tear dripped from her own optics, and onto her son's broken body, as though she were already attending his funeral. _


	5. 4: Why does he hate me?

Note: Thanks for the reviews, and my two reviewers. However, I would really, _really, _want some more reviews to comment on my writing and on how the story is going. It would be much appreciated!

I apologise for the length of this chapter, but you see that button at the bottom of this page? Press it! Please, please, please, please, review!

**4. Why does he hate me?**

The image dissolved. "He survived," Optimus said dully, "She defied Sentinel and took him to hospital, where he was put in critical condition." He didn't say anything else. How could he? There was no more to say. His expression, mingled sadness and shock, were mirrored in the others' faceplates.

Colours spread out in all directions, shaping out a new scene before them. A similar room to the one before, but with a warmer feel to it. Sentinel and the femme were sitting together, the femme cradling another young mechling. They could see that the Prime was at last satisfied; looking into the child's clear blue optics. The sparkling was blue and red, with flames across his chestplates.

Optimus.

_Optimus – then known as Orion Pax – curled up in the femme's arms, purring contently. But there was something wrong; the agitated, desperate look in her optics, as though she didn't want her own sparkmate to notice something. But what? "He's perfect," Sentinel said, looking at his son. But then, his optics caught sight of a reflection in the mirror, and he snarled viciously, as though he were again a caged animal. _

_Through a gap in the door, Megatronus's frightened red optics were focused on his new-born brother. The femme seemed to realise Sentinel's anger. "Don't hurt him," she pleaded once again, like all those years ago. "He just wants to see his brother. Anyone would. There's nothing wrong. _Please, _Sentinel." Clearly, she was not a submissive femme in character, but her love for her child made her beg for his safety. _

_Sentinel stood up and walked to the door, earning a frightened squeak from his son. Megatronus tried to run, but his father had grabbed his arm, and flung him into the wall, twisting his ped at a wonky angle. "No!" the femme cried, but she was too weak to come to his aid this time. _

"_You stay away from your brother!" Sentinel yelled to the young child. "Little piece of filth you are, don't you dare put any evil thoughts in his processor. I don't CARE if _your _processor is corrupted; you're not doing it to anyone else! Do you hear me!?" Megatronus nodded fitfully in fear, whimpering again, his huge optics blinking in a hurtful manner. "Now get upstairs!" the Prime roared, kicking out at his son's broken ped, causing the latter to scream with pain. _

_Megatronus, sobbing, dragged himself up the stairs, away from his father, crying out as his broken ped twitched when it hit each step. Sentinel left the house, slamming the door behind him in his anger. _

_Instantly, the femme, still cradling Orion, hurried up the stairs, and ran into her other child's room, where he lay, quivering in his berth, optics welling up with coolant. "Megatronus, darling," she whispered, putting Orion down on it and hugging him. "Don't cry, sweetspark, Mummy's here."_

_Megatronus hugged her back, before tentatively stroking his brother's helm, curious with the tiny sparkling. "Why does he hate me?" he asked, blinking coolant from his optics. _

_His mother started to stroke his broken ped. "I don't know, sweetspark," she said, lying because she couldn't tell him that Sentinel hated him because he had red optics, because he reminded the latter of the Decepticons. He wouldn't understand, and she couldn't hurt him like that. Until she remembered that he was already hurt, having to go through days of pain similar to this one. "I don't know," she finally said, gently kissing his helm. "It's going to be alright."_

_What was most noticeable were the clear scars across his armour, a reminder of the terrible abuse he had received when he was less than a year old. But the door banged open, and there was Sentinel Prime, framed in the doorway, optics cruel and cold, and intently on the trio. His voice was dangerous. "I think we need to talk," he said menacingly. "I warned you not to disobey my orders. And I would prefer not to traumatise Orion." He spoke the word 'prefer' like it did not matter what he showed or did not show in front of such a young sparkling. _

"_He's not your only son," she said, arms still around Megatronus, who had started to whimper, feeling the harshness of the words, and the danger of the predicament, though not directed at him. "You never even cared-"_

"_COME!" Sentinel roared, making Orion cry. He did not appear to have noticed this. He did not appear to have cared. _

_The femme surrendered, and a single tear leaked from her optics. She gently kissed both her sons, as if she knew what were to happen, and left the room with the abusive Prime. There were yellings, then screams. _

_Then silence. _


	6. 5: Nightmare

Note: Yes, this chapter is not a flashback chapter. I like to put in some of these chapters every now and then to see what the Autobots are getting up to. The italics on this page are mostly internal thoughts and stress on the words. As for the question, yes, their mother did die. . Sorry!

Thanks for the reviews! Please continue to press that little button at the bottom of the page! ;-)

**5. Nightmare**

The day had progressed faster than the Autobots had thought. It was night; almost midnight, in human time. Each had left for their own quarters, in almost absolute silence, shocked by the memories they had seen. They had agreed to meet at the Prime's quarters and continue the story. It couldn't make them feel any worse than they already did. To their surprise, Soundwave was not smug. The silent 'Con seemed almost appreciative, as far as he would stretch his emotions – which weren't much – and no one, but Optimus knew why. All Optimus had said was, "You'll see his story merging with this one."

The Prime settled into recharge, but he couldn't help but dream of the things he had remembered, and an alternate reality played to him before his eyes…

He was back in Chicago. He saw himself killing Shockwave, and countless others. He saw Soundwave fall to Bumblebee. They were alive now, but the one mech he would have needed to be alive… he had to stop from returning. And it tore him apart. Then…

Then, he saw himself fighting Sentinel. It wasn't some weird apparition, though it seemed like one; the figures were silvery mist with the odd splash of bright colour. The red of Sentinel's paintjob was streaked against the mist which enveloped it, giving it the cruel smear of energon. The hatred was coursing through his energon lines as he remembered the former Prime kill Ironhide. He watched Sentinel rip his arm off, cleaving it with the horrific blade. He saw the Prime raise the sword, about to kill him, kill his own son, the one whom he had called 'perfect'…

He saw Megatron run up behind his father, and shoot him three times with his rifle. He watched Sentinel fall to his brother's feet. He saw and heard Megatron offer a truce. He saw himself decapitate his brother. And his throat was on fire again.

Sentinel was a coward. After Optimus had dealt the blows to the Decepticon warlord, the red Prime had begged for his life. Optimus reminded himself that Megatron had never pleaded for mercy, not in this way that he had.

Throat burning, Optimus watched as the nightmare faded away in splashes of colour, until he was left standing in a vast landscape of nothing but blackness. It hurt his spark. How could he have swung that blade to catch the helm of the mech that he had loved so much? How could he have watched the energon spray from the severed neck-cables without even flinching or looking away? How could he have been so ruthless, so merciless as to have done that act in the first place? How could he have watched the beautiful red colour that he had known so well, seen so many times, that had comforted him, and stayed with him, watched over him, fade away into nothing but black? How could he have watched the body fall to the ground without even regretting the choice he had made? How could he look down at the body with so much contempt and hate on his own faceplates, dare to look at the lifeless shell, one that had done all that he could for Orion, had promised, had _promised_…

_You killed Sentinel, _he told himself.

_Sentinel was a monster. He deserved… no, he tortured Megatron because… because of his optics. But Megatron… we could have been brothers again. We could have renewed the promise, what we had before. Now there's nothing. Just black. _It hurt his spark again, even now, just to find out, that however faint it was, their brother bond within their sparks had still been there, but Optimus had never regarded it. And now, when he finally felt the last fizzling bond snap and disappear into nothing, did he realise, that Megatron was still there… but not any more.

And now Optimus would have to stop him from returning, and end all hope of any dream that he had of them being together again. _Together. _

No answer. And Optimus could only watch, trapped within his own dream, and let the events play out. And it was agony to watch, but not do anything to stop himself from hurting the one being he had cared about most in the universe. It was like remembering Megatron falling to the Decepticons, and just the feeling of knowing the sole mech you loved was now your mortal enemy…

And this, watching himself losing his brother, and being powerless to stop it from happening, was his only real fear, his true fear, the one that would stay with him, haunt him until he died, and maybe even then, beyond death.

This was his nightmare, his personal hell, his Pit, the images which haunted him, and which would never leave him alone. Ever since Chicago, they replayed themselves to him, torturing him, as though he were forced to watch images the made him sick. Every night. Never a reprieve.

His greatest nightmare. His ultimate fear.


	7. 6: Sing

Note: Okay, this chapter doesn't seem that important – but you'll see that later, it is. And please, please, please review!

**6. Sing**

The next morning, they were back in the memories. The scene was slowly shaping before them, the voice becoming audible, the movements no longer blurred. It was yet again, a similar room to the one where the events had last played out, but six years later.

"_Why can't I see you normally?" asked Orion, curling up to his older brother as he spoke, looking at the ceiling. _

"Sentinel_ thinks I'll hurt you," Megatronus said, and it was sad to realise that his chestplates still bore the scars from his first abuse with his father. "He thinks I'm what everyone calls a _Decepticon,_" he shuddered, "because my optics are red."_

"_That's silly," Orion said, innocently and confidently, and it pained Optimus now, to see how unknowing he had been. "You wouldn't hurt me. And what's a Decepti… thingy?"_

_His brother looked sadly at him. "There once was a war. The Autobots – us – fought against the Decepticons. The Decepticons are twisted, sick and evil bots. They cause pain for their own pleasure, and they are cruel, ruthless and manipulative beyond comparison." He wanted to add 'but Sentinel is no better than them', but he refrained himself, for Orion's sake. It was a shock to hear that the young Megatron spoke of himself as an Autobot, and that he had spoken of the Decepticons – his would-be servants – in such a disgusted way, when he would become one of them, and sink to as low as they had fallen. _

_"But you're not a… a Decepti… Decepticon," Orion said, struggling to pronounce the word. "You're my brother, and I love you so much. Look at our brother-bond," he continued, looking down to where his spark would usually be, but behind and protected in the sparkchamber. _

"_I love you too," Megatronus said with affection, but he looked strangely worried. "Orion, don't say that in front of Sentinel. He'll know that I've been talking to you, and I'll get in trouble." He winced. Despite his youth – he couldn't be more than seven Earth years – the pain, suffering and hurt in his optics were there. _

_Orion tilted his helm to look at him. "Why do you call him by his name, and not 'father'?"_

_Megatronus stiffened, servos clenched, and digits curling into a fist. "He doesn't want me as his son. To me, he is _not _my father."_

_His brother looked a little concerned, but he didn't question his view. "Okay," he said, snuggling up to Megatronus's chestplates. "I won't say anything. I don't want to get you into trouble," but the tone of his voice suggested that he did not know what the trouble would mean. His brother smiled at him. "I'm tired," the red and blue mechling said suddenly, "Can you sing that lullaby again?"_

_Megatronus nodded, cuddling his brother. "Okay," he said, "It's time to recharge."_

_The older mechling started to hum a haunting melody that could hardly be called a _lullaby, _but it was certainly emotional, all his thoughts poured into it. It was filled with hurt, sorrow and regret, but sounded hopeful, anticipating the future in the pitch. It was beautiful in the notes, the way it sometimes sped up and slowed down, the wistful feel of the melody, sometimes sad, and sometimes happy, and the way it made you feel for the music. Orion was already in recharge by the time the melody drew to a close, in a peaceful, prolonged note. _

Optimus admitted that he would hear the song, playing in his processor, even now, after all these years, before recharging. In a way, it told of his life, and his relationship with the brother he thought he knew. The truth was that he missed his brother more than anything in his old life, before he became Optimus Prime, and the song reminded him of what they had once shared. This was their song, and he could never forget it.

_Gently, Megatronus laid Orion's helm onto the berth before leaving the room, leaving the house, slipping away unnoticed, which had always been a skill of his. He hoped that he had managed to escape his father's wrath for at least one day, and that his time spent with his younger brother would not be discovered. As he turned the corner, he smiled with satisfaction, the haunting melody playing in his mind. Sing. _

Note: I will try to update the next chapter as soon as I possibly can, but I desperately need reviews and for people to comment on my work, like how they like the story so far, and ask any questions about the story so far. So please review! Also, from the next chapter, the story begins to get a bit darker, as the two young mechlings finally meet the Decepticons face to face. And yes, Soundwave will appear in a later chapter, and from there, he will be quite an important character. XD


	8. 7: The Decepticons

Note: Okay, like I said, we're going to get to meet the Decepticons in this chapter. And I tried to make it a little longer, so if it's still not long enough, sorry. Unfortunately, I won't update for about two weeks. Please review!

**7: The Decepticons**

_Orion stood in his room, staring outside through the window. It hadn't been long since the last memory, and the mechling was only six. There was clearly something on his mind. His optics darted to the door and back, before he hooked his leg out of the window and swung outside, landing lightly, as only bots could do. He scaled the wall with difficulty, looking around guiltily and cautiously, not wanting to be seen. He had picked a spot to climb which would be difficult to see until he had gotten over the wall. By then, anyway, it would be too late. Orion clambered into a busy street, but everyone seemed to be too preoccupied to notice a wide-eyed, blue and red sparkling in the middle of the street. Closing his eyes, he ran towards a silver, older bot whose gait suggested that he too did not want to be followed. Orion tugged at his arm, trying to pull him back. Megatronus tried to pry his brother's digits away from his arm. "What are you doing?" he demanded in an undertone, his arm jerking, as he tried to loosen Orion's clinging grip. _

_The six-year old mechling looked up into the crimson optics of his brother. "Why… why do you go out and watch bots fight to the death?" he asked, almost sobbing. "You told me that you weren't ever _ever _going to be a… a Decepticon." The child sniffled innocently, pulling at Megatronus's servos. _

"_I know, I promise that I won't," Megatronus reassured Orion, holding the youngling's servos in his own. A shadow seemed to pass over his faceplates. "I need to _learn_," he tried to explain, but with little success. _

"_You don't learn anything from fighting," Orion said, looking at his brother, as if unsure about who he was talking to any more. _

_Megatronus's optics narrowed at this. "I'm not going to stand there and let _him_ do anything to me – or to you. I _need _to learn how to fight, so… so he can't hurt anyone anymore, because I'll be able to stop him." The mechling started back towards the arena, but Orion held him back. "You mean… Daddy?"_

"_He doesn't want me," Megatronus said without conviction. It had gotten to the point in which he felt disgusted with himself if he said his father's name allowed. Referring to the Prime as a pronoun made him feel better. "He'd be happier if I died, why don't you go and ask him?" He almost winced as he remembered the severe damage done to his chestplates when he himself was only a year old. "Whoops, no, he'd get angry again, because I don't exist, and I have to stay out of his way because he can't even stand to look at me or be in the same room as me."_

"_He hurts you?" asked Orion, optics beginning to brim with tears. _

"_Hey, don't cry," his brother told him kindly, holding him close. "I got used to it a long time ago, and I see him less and less as days go on, so there's not much chance of anything happening. Besides, he won't ever hurt _you,_ so…" He almost wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, but stopped himself when he knew what Orion would say. _

"_Did he do this to you?" the six-year old questioned, looking at the scars on his brother's chestplates. When Megatronus gave a stiff, mute nod, the youngling said, "He's a monster."_

_The silver mechling looked round, concerned that anyone had heard their conversation. "Don't let anyone hear you say that," he said warningly. "Everyone loves him so much that they'll have us arrested for that. And on his orders, because we know too much, and the rest of this pathetic city can't realise what a monster their beloved _Prime_ has become." He sneered a little at this. _

"_I could tell," mumbled the other mechling. _

"_Who would believe you?" responded Megatronus bitterly, "He's the Prime; everyone thinks he's perfect. Only he's not." Orion had let go off his arm, and walked with him unconsciously as they reached a dark alley. "Walk faster," his brother urged. "Decepticons hang around the place, sparknapping bots like us."_

"_He's right," said a feminine voice, and a femme landed in front of them while other mechs surrounded them, all of which bore the infamous Decepticon insignia on their armour. They were not heavily armed, most likely thinking it was not really worth wasting ammunition, or that it would be an easy job. Orion had heard of these bots. Once you were taken, you would never be seen again. He trembled, pressing closer to Megatronus. The femme smiled at his reaction. "We were listening to your conversation. Sons of the Prime, huh?" She checked her data-banks. "Hmm… and your names are Orion, and Megatronus. Interesting." The other Decepticons sniggered. "You must have been treated badly by the _Autobots_," she sneered again, "so, will you accept our offer and become a Decepticon?"_

_Megatronus did not even hesitate. "Never."_

_The femme smiled. "Shame. You'd have a better life if you did." She then motioned for the others to attack. Megatronus shielded Orion by placing the youngling behind him, and facing the Decepticons nearer to the way back. _

_They fought. Even at this age, the young Megatron was a good fighter, having learnt from watching the many pit-fights in the gladiatorial arena. He returned and blocked blows, and managed to land a hard backhand which dented a mech's armour. Orion was learning quickly too. He dodged round blundering mechs, trying to make for the exit, but the femme's patience had snapped. She lunged out, wrapping an arm around Orion's neck, threatening to break his neck-cables. Megatronus froze, optics fixed on his brother, so he did not see the blow from one of the mechs coming from behind. _

_The punch made contact with his helm, and Orion screamed for a fraction of a second, before the femme's servo slammed over his mouthplates. Megatronus collapsed, his optics offlining and his vision turning black, the last splashes of colour fading, and he reached out desperately for his brother, as the darkness dragged him under…_


	9. 8: Slaves

Note: Thanks to all the users who favourited and followed this story! Sorry for the long wait. It was half-term and I had to revise for my end-of-years. DEATH TO HOMEWORK!

Warnings: small mentions of blood, violence and a bit of torture.

Anyway, back to the story. It's a little bit longer than the other chapters. Please review, and enjoy!

**8. Slaves**

Optimus remembered that day, before the memory had faded into nothing but a small burst of colour. That was the day that he had been forcibly taken away from his home, and the day he had witnessed just how cruel and ruthless the Decepticons really were. He remembered his own despair and confusion, the fear and the feeling of being trapped until the day he had died. Yes, he had died a fair few times now. But of course, Megatronus and Soundwave had soothed his feeling of loneliness – they too had been there, whispering in his audios and telling him it was alright. Well, they had, until they had both fallen to the dark side.

_The two mechlings had found themselves on the Decepticon warship – not the Nemesis, but an older model of it. Megatronus was in statis, and Orion was sprawled on the floor. One of the mechs smirked – he was one of the eldest, that much was sure. "Look what we have here," he sneered, "Two little helpless sparklings." The others – both mechs and femmes – advanced on the helpless six-year old. Orion tried to shake his brother awake, and after moments of spark-wrenching despair, he succeeded. _

_Blood-red optics onlined, stopping the group in the path with an icy-cold stare amidst Orion's mewling and whimpering. His optics were darker and deeper, giving a vibrant sense of danger, as Megatronus rose as steadily to his peds as possible, and met their faltering glances with a defensive hurt-filled one. There was determination in his optics, and a cold, hard strong demeanour, that told them he would do anything to protect the mechling behind him, though said mechling was no longer whimpering pitifully, but alert, and tugging at his arm. _

_The door slid open, breaking the tense vibe in the room. "Ah yes," the femme from before said, "These are the new _slaves_." She smirked widely, clearly enjoying the slight narrowing of crimson optics, and the widening of blue ones behind him. The femme climbed a flight of short stairs to a viewing platform, the double doors flanked by two burly mechs – all brawn and no processor. Orion's helm jerked shakily as he hid uncertainly behind his brother. The femme's smirk was worn down – no one was paying much attention. "Get to work!" she said snappily, all coolness gone, and Megatronus smirked in turn at her annoyance. This did not go amiss, and she looked down once at him with a piercing glare. He pretended not to notice. _

"_Good luck with that, kid," said another mech unkindly to the pair, before following the others in a line that marched through a slowly-raising shutter to what appeared to be an armoury. A mech approached the two brothers – another burly one – and grunted unintelligently. "Go."_

_Megatronus stood his ground. "No. We are _no one's _slaves." The brunt of the whip slid out of its electrified sheath, and struck the young mechling across the faceplates. He winced, but refused to submit to the pain, making no move to follow the slowly disappearing line of workers. The mech looked to the femme helplessly with a look of absolute confusion on his faceplates. He had evidently never gotten this situation before. _

_Her optics resembled an inferno. "Oh, is that so? I'll know what will break you." She pointed at Orion. "The same to the little one." He seemed to acknowledge her words, and raised the whip over Orion's helm. Megatronus dragged his brother out of harm's way, despite his protests, and with him held protectively in his arms, made his way over to the other mechs. The femme hissed, "You're learning. Now run along. Plenty of work to do."_

_They were almost out of earshot, but heard her say before the shutter closed. "Remember that you are our slaves. You no longer have an identity, a past, or a future. You will die here, at our service. You have no freedom and nowhere to go. Your frame belongs to _us, _now."_

_Megatronus shivered slightly, but outwardly gave no sign that he heard. When they reached the armoury, another mech leaned over and said, "I haven't seen much like that yet. She usually lets 'em defiant ones have a beating fer disobedience. Yeh see how clueless that gormless one looked," he pulled a grotesque face, "'cause she don't normally let 'em go. She seems to 'ave 'aken a likin' to you two."_

"_Maybe," the silver mechling responded. "Doesn't look like it to me, though."_

"_Well, she's not normally that nice." He paused. "Where are yeh from, then? Yeh don't look like yeh come from any normal cities."_

_Megatronus froze, expression in place, as if not sure whether he should indeed tell. But this new mech might know where they'd come from, but not who they really were. "Iacon," he answered. _

"_Wow!" the other said excitedly. "Yeh come from the big city, that's big news. Wait a minute, I think I 'eard about yeh before."_

"_Right," Megatronus said. "I doubt you would; I'm not that important." He purposefully left out his brother, knowing full well that Orion was better known than he; being adored and waited upon in their father's house, unlike himself. He tried to steer away from the topic. "What's her name?" he asked, referring to the femme. _

"_There's none of us that know," he said mournfully. "Most of us forget our own identities after a while, 'cause yeh belong to the 'cons now, and they slowly take it away from yeh. Anyway, I'm Rusty. What about yeh?"_

"_Um… this is Orion, and I'm Megatronus," replied the youngling, thinking it maybe best not to avoid the question and receive suspicion, or to lie, since Rusty seemed to know roughly who they were. "Odd name, isn't it?" he asked of the other mech. _

"_That's what I'm known around 'ere anyway. Yeh have a pretty odd name yehself, don't ya?" he asked. "Megatronus, huh? Named after one of the 'irteen Primes – the original ones, mind yeh. Megatronus Prime was zeh one who turned to ol' Unicron, and became known as the Fallen. The 'Con leader, our 'Master', yeh know. Gone away to look fer somewhat or another."_

_Megatronus paused, unsure of what to say. "My father hates me. Probably why I was called that. Or it could have been my carrier, because she always told me I was different. Maybe like the way he was different to all the other Primes. Or the most well-known one. But I wasn't named because I'm evil, or thought to be evil." He shuddered. _

"_Ain't your father Sentinel Prime?" Rusty asked, demanding and curious. "Only 'cause I hear that femme talking a long time about abductin' yeh two. But you guys don't seem frightened 'bout bein' on the 'Con's warship."_

_Orion seemed to finally notice this. He curled up next to his brother. "Bless him," said the older mech, smiling. Megatronus seemed uneasy about their identities being revealed. "Don't worry, I won't tell a spark. You two seem decent, unlike most of 'em beat-up younglings I see around 'ere. Shame that about fifty of us are moving to a brand-new warship the 'Cons 'ave built tomorrow. I would 'ave liked to talk to yeh a bit more."_

"_Get to work!" yelled the overseeing mech, cracking his whip. Megatronus, sighing, handed his brother the shortest shovel he could find, before taking one for himself. They followed Rusty down the ramp, finding themselves in a sweltering hot desert. There seemed to be nothing for miles. The two younglings watched as Rusty walked off faster, in front of them, heading for the front of the group. They watched him disappear amongst the throng of mechs and femmes. They never saw him again. _

"_Walk!" yelled the same mech, and they stumbled into the sand, peds sinking. They walked, for what seemed like hours, with many of the younglings, Orion and Megatronus included, struggling to find the strength to complete the demand. _

_They reached the destination. It was an abandoned energon mine, but one that was not to be abandoned for much longer. There must have been something in there that was needed and wanted by the Decepticons. Either that, or they were brought here to kill them. That was not right, though, because they had just been captured, and it would have been a waste. And Megatronus knew perfectly well that the 'Cons had no scruples about killing them aboard the ship. The entrance was a gaping black hole, rocks crumbling into fine powder along the sides, glowing energon dotted amongst the greying dust, suggesting that there was indeed energon to be mined. They reflected light in the blinding sun. Orion had no energy to appreciate the scenery; he desperately needed energon, weak with exhaustion and hunger from the walk. _

_The mech overseeing them seemed to notice his staring, and pallid, fatigued countenance, or else he was a telepath, because he yelled, "You want energon? Go and dig for it!"_

_They stumbled over to the mine entrance, it inducing fear in their hearts as they jabbed their shovels into the ground and dug. As a part of irony, they were not allowed to have the energon they found; Orion had learnt this by watching a young mechling shot by a smoking cannon and blown apart for doing so. Energon splattered across the crumbling walls, dripping down like poison._

_If they did not work hard enough, they were whipped. Scars born from the electrified whips were enough to keep the mechlings at bay, and continuing to work. It was torture to hear the screams as the whip tore through the air, and across the smooth metal of the younglings, scraping through it and drawing energon. And so, it continued, with no promise of food or rest, until the sun touched the horizon and beyond. _

_Orion knew what Fate had forced he and his brother into, knew it as they worked painfully and under threat for hours on end. Slavery. This was their life now. _

**A/N: In this chapter, energon can be taken as fuel and bled. But the bled energon cannot be taken since it's been in another mech's systems and will definitely poison you. **

**Do you like the name that I picked for my OC? **


	10. 9: Scarred

Note: In answer to DanielleScott10, Soundwave is going to make an appearance in this chapter, but it'll be a while before he actually takes part in the flashbacks. Okay, um… yeah, this chapter has a bit of a gruesome description about disfigured faceplates. You can only guess who… So squeamish people, a little warning. The sad thing is: I STILL HAVE EXAMS!

Anyway, apologies for this chapter being so short, but please review!

**9. Scarred**

For the second time, the memories faded until they were a pool of clear water. "It is late," Optimus said, before opening the doors and showing them out. Shoulderplates slumped, they shuffled out in the direction pointed to them. The Prime started to the brig, where Soundwave was incapacitated. The Autobots were already there. "Your story is approaching," he said, and the Decepticon inclined his head in gratification.

"Why do you wear a mask?" Bumblebee played through his radio. "And what of your voice? I know the pain of losing my own." The purple mech considered his words and dipped his helm down. Optimus, with shaking servos, removed his mask.

The Autobots could now see why the visor was important. Soundwave _did _have a face, but it was terribly scarred. His blood-red optics were partially blackened, and half of his faceplates were almost gone, held by tiny bridges of metal which still leaked energon constantly, and if examined closely, you could see the internal cables and wires which fizzled with electricity, all remnants of a terrible fight. They too, were weakened and frayed, barely held together.

As for the other half… well, it had fared better, obviously not being at the brunt of whatever blow had caused this. A long gnash cut a deep ridge into the metal of his faceplates, which oozed energon with intervals of a few minutes. The energon still glowed dully, reflecting the lights of the room, but it was cracked and dry… until the fresh energon leaked from the wounds and coated it, forming an ugly mass of glowing green.

His visor not only enabled him to see, it gave him a direct wiring to his processor, seeing things and linking them faster than most mechs. It also covered the horrific injuries and scars which littered his faceplates. With his visor, he looked like a true Decepticon: fearless, intimidating, and with a vibe of danger – enough to make the SIC, Starscream a little wary and perhaps afraid of him. It also allowed him to be the strong, silent mech he was, giving him his most striking characteristic – his silence and absolute devotion to his master, Megatron.

The injuries he had sustained must have rendered him into a state where his voice had become robotic to the extreme – like Bumblebee's, but more horrific. He communicated by playing back voices from what he heard, and by sound waves – much like his name – on his visor. It gave him a mysterious aura – like a warrior on the battlefield, which he had much achieved.

Optimus replaced the visor. "I'm sorry… for not being there," he said, before he left, with the Autobots in tow. "I'm so very sorry."

**A/N: Any guesses for what happened to Soundwave? And what did Optimus have to do with it?**


	11. 10: Mind-reader

Note: I know, I know, this is not the longest chapter I've ever written, and yes, it is mostly talking, but I do feel sorry for the little newbie joining Megatronus and Orion. No spoilers for the bombshell at the end of this chapter, but you'll see that the little newbie plays quite an important part in the story…

Anyway, on with my rambling, and with the next chapter… Please review!

I still have stupid FRENCH ORALS!

**10. Mind-reader**

_It would have continued this way – a life lost, in a certain sense – being stripped of their identities and forced as slaves. This was partly what had contributed to the present Megatron's brutal treatment of his men, and particularly Starscream. And so it would have been – until the arrival of one certain mechling. _

_It was one of the rare days in which there was no digging for energon in any one of those mines. Most of the workers were locking co-ordinates on the scrapped computers, while the younglings were bunched together in the gathering room, with no other forms of entertainment but their own vocalisers. The Decepticons were busy locking the location of the next energon mine. It was peaceful, well as peaceful as life on a Decepticon ship could be; the older ones bullied new recruits, and there hadn't been one since Megatronus and Orion, and the older of the pair had made it clear that none of them were to be bullied. _

_Sobs echoed from down the corridor, a reverberating noise that made the oldest of the mechlings's audios whir. "Excellent," he whispered hoarsely, and beckoned to his gang to follow him. Megatronus made no move, feeling that it was not worth it to get into another fight for yet _another_ mere sparkling who would suffer the same fate as the rest of them. That, and he would be putting Orion in potential danger. Nothing special. Or so he thought. _

_A mech came in, one of those utterly processor-dead ones, Megatronus noticed, dragging a screaming sparkling by the helm. He deposited the young child in a heap on the floor and left. The sparkling's head flicked up, catching sight of the mechs in front of him, and started to wail harder, rocking about in despair. The child was purple, with darker chestplates and peds. His servos were silver, and he was also plated with blue around his sparkchamber. His servos were clenched together; his optics a deep crimson. His peds were pointed, and in the purple paintwork, there were folds of silvery-blue metal bound with it. The crest of his helm was black, with a single streak of purple, and two of silver. _

Optimus looked sadly at the shivering mechling in the memory. "Do you know who that is?" he asked the Autobots. They shook their helms, and the Prime turned back towards the moving picture, offering no response.

_Megatronus looked at the fearful glimmer in the sparkling's eyes; the wild, lean, hungry look as though he had been deprived of everything. He felt a twinge of pity towards this new sparkling, seeing himself in his former life in the curled form. Unable to stand the nagging worry clenching in his spark for someone he barely knew, Megatronus stood up. "Leave him alone." The older mechling sneered at his words. "Yeah, so you can babysit every youngling who goes through those doors!" Nevertheless, he backed down, as Megatronus's optics flared dangerously, the bright crimson similar to a cruel streak of blood amongst that darkened faceplates. _

_Orion tugged at his brother's servo, as the pair approached the mechling, who screamed as they came closer. "No!" he wailed, clutching his helm, and convulsing in pain, "Go away!" The six-year old Optimus looked hurt; Megatronus a little suspicious. "It hurts when anyone comes, it hurts!"_

"_We're not going to hurt you," Megatronus said, trying to uncurl the sparkling with no success. "What hurts?"_

_The purple mechling sobbed harder, still screaming in what appeared to be pain, though Orion could see absolutely nothing wrong with him. "They call me names," he half-whispered, half-sobbed, "They call me a freak, and… and…" he struggled to finish, so skipped the sentence. "I don't know why, but they only start calling me names when I tell them what I can see." He sobbed again. _

"_We won't call you names," Orion said. "We promise, don't we, Megs?", and his brother nodded, though he frowned in a little confusion. He had heard of bots that had additional 'powers' to what normal bots were sparked to have, but this one did not seem to be of any use to this young mechling. If anything, it made him more vulnerable. _

"_It's because I hear so many voices in my head, and they just overlap, and it burns so much!" Coolant streamed from his optics, a saddening sight. _

"_Voices?" asked the silver mechling, full of concern. "What voices?"_

_The other did not reply, just sobbed harder. "Help me," he begged. "If you promise that you won't hurt me, than _go_." More coolant joined the rest. "Please stop the whisperings; it hurts so much. The voices whisper to me. So many voices. Over each other. They tell me things. The whispers hurt my helm. Please help me!" The purple sparkling raised his helm to look at them. "Stop the whispering! Please…"_

"_We're not whispering," Megatronus said accusingly, holding his brother closer to his chestplates. _

"_But you are," the sparkling insisted. "You tell me things… about… about you. Someone hurt you. A… Prime? Red colours… And it hurts your spark… all the energon. Cannon…" he turned to Orion. "You miss your home… white floors, beautiful windows, a high wall… You both miss your mother. She entered a room with your father… and she never came back out… you never saw her again… The Prime lied to you… he said she left… but you know… know… what… what happened." He seemed to be struggling to reach for words. _

"_How do you know that?" asked Megatronus brusquely, red optics darting to the purple mechling's faceplates. His mouthplates were a tight light, lipplates pressed together, as he glared suspiciously at the curled-up sparkling at his feet. _

_The sparkling looked up at him, red optics blinking innocently, which instantly warmed up Megatronus's spark, and his faceplates softened into a kinder countenance, as he looked down at the former. "I heard them. I can hear the whisperings from other people. They talk to me, but they don't know it. I just hear them. I can hear everyone, and it hurts. I can see flashes of colour, red, white, blue…" he answered, trailing away uncertainly, as if concerned that he might have given the wrong answer. _

"_You're a mind-reader?" asked Megatronus incredulously, while Orion yelled, "Cool!" Megatronus instantly shushed his brother, who was starting to attract attention from other bots – unwanted attention. _

_The mechling nodded. "I think so, now that you said it. I didn't know what it was before, but I guess I can hear people's thoughts. But it burns my mind when I hear so many whispers."_

"_Come with us," Megatronus said, while Orion nodded enthusiastically, pulling the sparkling to his feet. "We can help you," the older mechling continued gently, holding his servos, which made the purple mechling cuddle up to him, but look shocked at the same time. "It'll hurt at first, but we'll help you control the whispers. And it'll never hurt again." After a while, the new arrival said, "You want to know my story. You want to know my designation."_

"_Yup," said Orion adorably, and he curled up to his brother's chestplates. Megatronus did not appear to mind, just patiently treated this mechling as he did with his brother, startling the Autobots with his former personality – so different to the mech they knew him as. The silver sparkling felt pity for him, as he looked so lost, abused and hurt, an outcast because of the colour of his optics, just as Megatronus was. _

"_I'll tell you my story, but first, I'll tell you my name," said the mystery mechling. _

"_Yes?" asked Megatronus patiently, letting the smaller mechling squirm out of his arms. "What is your name?" _And by this time, somehow the Autobots already knew. _The silver sparkling did not have to wait long for an answer; the reply was swift. _

"_Soundwave."_

**A/N: A cookie if you guessed who that was! Unfortunately, I don't have any real ones, so you can have an imaginary one… Yeah, after being so mean to Soundwave, he officially has the permission to kill me now. Not that he needs my permission anyway… **


	12. 11: Soundwave

Note: Thanks for the review! This chapter is kind of a double flashback, as in a flashback within a flashback, and Soundwave will _definitely_ get to kill me by the end of this. I have now finished all my exams! Yay! Hopefully I can update next week, unless a certain 'Con is out to get me…

**11. Soundwave**

_In a way, Soundwave's story was similar to Megatron's. But there was one astute difference: while Megatron had been brought up in the Prime's luxury quarters back on Cybertron, Soundwave had lived his life in squalor and poverty, but too, because of his blood-red optics, so similar to Megatronus's predicament, but both better and worse. _

_Soundwave was forced to work on the streets and in the factories for money, and if he did not bring enough home, he would be beaten by the mech he called his father, and thrown out of the house, or pathetic shelter which was his house, to beg for money. But being poor had its upsides. Soundwave's father had no money to afford any weaponry, and he certainly was not high-ranked or important enough to be entrusted with any. So, when he did hurt his sparkling, he used his servos, which could never compare with the blast from a cannon. The punishments never lasted long; his father tired out extremely quickly, but they still hurt. And what hurt the most was, being a mind-reader, Soundwave could hear how much his father hated him. The whispers overlapped each other, as he worked, and unable to control his abilities, he would often collapse in a spasm. And that brought on the most trouble at home. _

_His mother had been killed in an accident a long time ago, leaving them in poverty and alone together. His father worked, but it was not nearly enough to support the family, buying them food, or shelter or any provisions they needed, certainly not medical expertise when something went wrong at home. His father had also been left with depression, and he would often take it out on his sparkling, who he called a freak after being told of the whispers, and whose optics he plainly hated. _

_One day, after receiving almost no payment at the factory, due to one of the spasm attacks he got from reading too many minds, and unable to control it, Soundwave had found himself once again, a subject of his father's rage. And this was the worst it had ever been. _

"_You!" his father yelled, in a drunken rage (yes, most of the money they earned was spent on HighGrade), stabbing a digit at his cowering sparkling. "I heard that you got NOTHING at all from your work, because you blacked out for the entire shift!" Soundwave whimpered, cringing away from the furious mech. "You are an absolute disappointment to me; you earn a pittance, earn nothing, yet you eat, sleep, and live under a roof I am struggling to keep above your head!"_

_The purple mechling shied away from his father, optics wide and terrified. "And the reason WHY you black out is because you can't keep your so-called 'colours' and those 'whispers' out of your stupid helm! Little freak, you are," he continued, now panting and slurring his words. "Your mother, and I, we are normal bots, and you have these crazy things in your head, Primus knows where you got them from! They tell you all these things you're not supposed to know, and you go _prying _these secrets from everyone's helms. What are you? WHAT ARE YOU?! Freak!" he spat. _

_He wasn't finished. Soundwave's father continued to rant, screaming abuse at his son, telling him how useless, how stupid, how much of a freak he was. And it all hit home. It broke through his sparkchamber, imaginarily crushing his spark. Why? Because Soundwave decreed it was all true; that his father had a right to be this angry, that it was right for him to be treated this way. And it broke him. "Disgrace, you are, to me, and to everyone! Can't do a simple job. Can't get anything through that thick helm of yours! And those optics you 'ave! Red, _blood-_red, like 'em Decepticons! Bet my life you'd turn out to be one, one day, innit, it's wired to your processor! Decepti-freak, that's what you are, and let me tell you and put you in your rightful place! Down low, with 'em 'Cons, energon all over their servos, and they don't even care!"_

"_You want to be one of 'em?" Soundwave shook his head frantically at his father's words, but the older mech ploughed on. "Then go! Get out of my house, I don't need you or your stupid processor anymore! You don't get any money, you're a freak, and I waste what I earn on you! So get out of here, do you understand?" He grabbed Soundwave's helm and hit him hard with his free servo. "I'm disowning you, little freak, so get… out!" He wrenched the door open, with unnecessary violence, threw his sparkling out, and bolted the door with a rickety bolt that was still effective. _

_In more ways than one, this was similar to Sentinel's abuse of Megatronus, save for the fact that the former was a Prime; for the sake of his reputation, he had been forced to keep the sparkling he hated. And though Megatronus was given food and shelter, it was several more years of torture. Soundwave had been liberated. He was free. But he didn't want to be left alone. _

_He beat on the door until his servos were covered with energon. Then sobbing, pain coursing through his energon lines like fire, he slid down, and sat on the side of the street, earning no pitiful looks from passer-byes, just disgust and contempt. A mech skirted around him to avoid touching him, as though the very air around him was contaminated. He heard a mutter of 'Decepticon' run through the street, and fled it, running until he could run no more, before collapsing onto the filthy street, his sobs the only noise in the abandoned place, alone and friendless. _

_And as the night closed down on the place he knew, bathing the street in cold, harsh moonlight, in an isolated street corner, a hungry, tired, cold, lonely and frightened sparkling cried himself to recharge. _

**A/N: Did you like it? Please review, or Soundwave will be out to get you (he appreciates comments on how mean everyone was to him; I've spoken to him, and he promises that he won't kill me)!**


End file.
